


The Cage, TWD, Negan/Daryl Dixon, NC-17

by meus_venator



Series: Negan's Cage [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Blackmail, M/M, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slavery, dark!fic, kidnap, non-con, physical confinement, season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 09:35:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8484340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meus_venator/pseuds/meus_venator
Summary: Daryl is taken by Negan to the Sanctuary, home of the Saviors. Coda to The Walking Dead 7.2 The Well





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** [**The Cage**](http://meus-venator.livejournal.com/100358.html)  
>  **Author:** [](http://meus-venator.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://meus-venator.livejournal.com/)**meus_venator**  
>  **Beta:** [](http://fufaraw.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://fufaraw.livejournal.com/)**fufaraw** and **onlythefireborn**  
>  **Fandom:** The Walking Dead (TV)  
>  **Genre:** PWP, Dark!fic, pure smut  
>  **Pairing:** Negan/Daryl Dixon  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Word Count:** 4,050  
>  **Warnings:** Kidnap, Non-Con, rape, physical confinement, blackmail,  
>  **Summary:** Daryl is taken by Negan to the Sanctuary, home of the Saviors. Coda to The Walking Dead 7.2 The Well
> 
>  **Author's Note:** This was inspired by the look of Daryl's face as he was loaded up into the van at the end of 7.2 of The Walking Dead, The Well. I saw the name of the new episode, 7.4 The Cell and without seeing the new episode yet, this is what sprung to mind when Daryl is taken to the Savior's compound.
> 
> Also, first time I'm well enough to post in almost a year, so bare with me, please. I have no idea why it would be in another fandom. I'm not leaving SPN or intending to write more of TWD fic anytime soon. It was just JDM. He was taunting me and I wanted to hear his sexy voice in my head. So Voila!

 

From across the clearing, Negan side-eyed the Alexandrian critically as he was thrust unceremoniously into the back of the Savior's empty cube van. Daryl reared up immediately, barely gaining control of himself in time to stop lunging forward to fight Negan’s men.

The wild, angry look in the man’s fiery eyes gave Negan far too many ideas. He had to bite his lip in an effort to hide the sly smile that threatened to fill his face. 

He watched approvingly as the muscles in the man’s shoulders bunched and strained, his fists clenching and unclenching as he settled in an awkward crouch, and shifted back and forth in the confined space of the van, Daryl's gaze never leaving Negan’s. Watching him reminded Negan of nothing so much as the big caged cat he’d seen at the zoo once, before the world had turned to shit.

The sudden tightening of his leather pants forced Negan to widen his stance and focus on the work at hand.

Negan hefted a still gore-filled Lucille over his shoulder. He pressed his lips together in a smug leer before whistling. “Okay, boys, we’re done here. Let’s head home.”

: : :

Continuous sheets of rain rippled in waves across the tiny courtyard, lashing at the iron cage in the center. Nothing like Georgia in the fall to turn from damp and hot to wet and miserable in the blink of an eye. Negan watched his new plaything from the comfort of his living room. A wide bank of sliding doors that formed one wall into the courtyard were thrown back. From this vantage point he could watch through the downpour as his cat continued to prowl back and forth in his iron prison.

Wet, plastered hair nearly hid those angry eyes, his cat’s soft voice barely audible over the storm. “I’ll kill you,” Daryl breathed, and stopped his relentless pacing to peer through the bars at Negan. Even standing in the rain wet through to the bone, Negan could tell that Daryl was a fighter. Lean, but with the sturdy grace of someone who knew how to use their body in a fight. Breaking one of Rick’s key men would count as a victory of sorts, but more than that Negan liked the idea of watching some of that fierce independence dim in those pale, tilted eyes.

Blowing out a long stream of smoke from his cigar, Negan’s mocking chuckle rolled through the open doorway. “You’re welcome to try, my friend. I’ve told the same to that buddy of yours. Rick He didn’t listen much better than you at first – not until I broke him, made him see the truth. But you’ll learn, just like him. Better than him, in fact. I got plans for you, kitty cat.”

“I’m not your damn cat,” Daryl growled and showed his back to Negan.

“You might not think so, but you will be.” Negan blew out another ring of smoke, and watched a near-imperceptible shiver run through Daryl’s body.

“What do you want us to do with him, sir?” Simon, one of his lieutenants, leaned in to top up Negan’s glass.

“I say we kill him.” Dwight volunteered, as he strode into the room unannounced.

Negan turned, his gaze narrowed. “And did I ask your opinion on what to do with my property?”

Dwight stopped cold in his tracks. “Whut?...” Swallowing rapidly, the man took a quick step back and bowed his head in submission. “Umm. I mean no sir, no. Pardon me, sir.” The good side of Dwight’s face paled instantly, his livid complexion in complete contrast to the red scars on the other side of his face. 

Negan stared at Dwight who mopped sudden flop sweat off his brow. He took a slow sip of his bourbon before he suddenly barked in laughter, “I’m shittin’ you, son. Don’t just stand there crappin’ your pants, report.”

Easing out a ragged breath, Dwight took a few tentative steps into the room. Negan’s cold hard gaze did not leave him for a moment. “We followed the Alexandrians back to their community. Left your new buddy Rick with a list of deliverables and his schedule. We’ll probably need to reinforce the seriousness with which we take our deliveries, but we can do that in a day or two.”

Nodding, Negan took another sip of his drink before his thoughts and gaze returned to the cage outside. His cat had slumped to the floor of his prison, his back still resolutely turned. Negan smiled. “Almost ready.”

“Pardon, sir?” Dwight swallowed nervously.

His train of through disrupted Negan scowled at his lieutenant. Paling further from the look on Negan’s face, Dwight stood there, stock still, like prey. Negan took his time before replying, “Good work, son.”

Sagging visibly in relief, Dwight licked his lips.

“Now go get yourself a well-earned hot meal.”

“Thank you, sir!” Dwight’s head bobbed again several times before he shuffled backward out of the room.

“Oh, and Dwight…”

“Yes, sir, Negan sir.”

“If you ever lay a hand, or threaten to lay a hand, on my kitty cat again? I’ll kill you.”

The sun was setting. The rain settled into to a light, steady drizzle as he finished his cigar. Negan knocked back the last of his bourbon and rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. He glanced back at Simon polishing glasses patiently at the bar.

“You still got that Sharpie, son?”

 

: : :

Daryl returned to consciousness suddenly as someone lifted him up out of sucking wet mud and threw him onto a hard, wet surface. His head cracked on the wood beneath him, pain radiating through his body as he struggled to wake. Steely hands grasped his wrists, pulled them up over his head, tied them quickly and efficiently with coarse rope.

“What the hell?” Daryl flicked the wet hair out of his eyes as the rain continued to fall. Biting back a groan, he tried to sit up, but a heavy mallet of a hand slammed down on his chest knocking him back so hard he saw stars.

“Stay.”

Negan’s voice was a dark rumble, threatening but not angry….yet. Daryl tried to shake off his dizziness and exhaled softly. Blinking against the rain, he located his tormenter in the dark. Negan was there above his shoulder, grasping the end of the heavy rope that bound Daryl’s hands. White teeth glinted in a feral smile as Negan tied the end of the rope off outside Daryl’s view. He strolled around to Daryl’s side “That’s my good puss.”

Daryl bit back a scalding reply, pulled tentatively at his short tether, but it didn’t budge. At least it wasn’t chain. With a shuddery breath he carefully eased himself onto his side, before levering himself up on one arm. The wound in his side from where Dwight had shot him earlier that day, sent a searing jolt through his body, and blood oozed from it. Grateful his arm only shook slightly, he quickly scanned his surroundings. He must have passed out in the cold and been moved onto a table, still in the damn cage, but now positioned at its center. He watched Negan through half-closed eyes.

“So what the hell is this all about?” Daryl resisted the urge to track Negan’s movements as the man paced around him. “This how you treat all your prisoners?”

“Ah, but there, you see, you misunderstand the situation. You aren’t my prisoner.”

Daryl huffed out a laugh. “So it’s okay then if I just stroll on out of here?”

“See, still not understanding. You aren’t my prisoner, and you certainly aren’t my hostage to your Rick’s good behavior. You’re mine. All mine, pussycat.”

“I told you before, I ain’t your fucking pussycat.”

“Oh, but you are.” Negan was suddenly inches from Daryl’s face, his hand buried in the wet cloth of his shirt, lifting him up off the surface he was lying on.

“It’s up to me to show you.”

Daryl choked as Negan hauled him up by the bunched cloth of his shirt and threw him belly down onto the table. Negan followed in a controlled fall that knocked the air out of Daryl’s lungs as Negan sprawled on top of him. The wood creaked and groaned threateningly, but managed to hold their combined weight. Daryl struggled, but Negan looped a length of rope several times around his throat and yanked on the two ends like reins, effectively closing off Daryl’s air.

Bound hands grasped fruitlessly at the thick rope as Daryl thrashed under Negan’s weight.

“You see, boy, every man has his needs, and hell, I got a lot of ‘em. I got the power, I got the cars, I got the guns, the people – hell, everything a growin’ boy would want, ‘cept one. I need a nice warm pussy to call my own. Someone to trail after me and keep me warm anytime I want. And I need that pussy to be strong.”

Negan paused for a moment to let his fingers trail tenderly along Daryl’s cheekbones and nose before he shoved himself up to standing. Daryl gasped and sputtered, his sight fading to black as Negan paced around him. “Yup, he needs to be strong, ‘cause this here world’s a hard place, and I want something that don’t break easy, just bends.”

Negan watched Daryl struggle for a while, then finally slacked the rope collar just enough to let Daryl breathe a little easier. “You, kitty cat, are going to bend just fine.”

While Daryl choked and wheezed, Negan tied the ends of the rope to rings in the tabletop, one on each side below Daryl’s hips.. With his hands pinned above him and the rope collar stretched taut below, Daryl had no means of escape.

Stunned at how easily he had been pinned and manhandled, Daryl gauged what range of movement he had left. Pinned as he was with his ass and legs hanging out over the end of the table, he had no leverage at all. Just freaking perfect.

Whistling softly, Negan tested the knots on the ends of the reins to his satisfaction, then strolled around Daryl’s leg. His whistling cut off abruptly as he slotted himself up tight between Daryl’s legs. Humming, he ground his leather-clad crotch against the crotch of Daryl’s faded jeans.

Dazed as he was, Daryl understood there was little he could do to stop Negan; time was running out. A knife thunked down into the table beside his shoulder. Daryl twisted his head up and around so at least one eye stared directly at Negan. “What, you kiddin’ me or what? All these willing followers of yours, and you gonna rape me? Man, you must be one sad sack of shit in bed.”

Negan smiled slightly, but otherwise ignored Daryl’s outburst as he shoved his fingers under Daryl’s hips and worked open the button and fly on his jeans. With scary ease Negan had his pants pushed down under the crack of his ass before Daryl could blink. A cold finger of dread traced down his spine.

Negan slapped him on one bare cheek. “Commando, eh? I like that. Kinda….sexy. ‘Course who the hell has time to do their tighty whities since Before?”

Negan’s approving hum rumbled in Daryl’s ears as the man squeezed each bare cheek in turn. Negan paused to sigh deliberately, dramatically, and then tsked. “Hmm, now, should I take you with your boots on or off? I think off. I want to see all that I’m gettin’.”

As he struggled for air, Daryl‘s boots were quickly untied, and thrown aside in the mud. Socks followed, and then Negan was jerking the now skintight, waterlogged jeans roughly down his hips and off each leg. Daryl kicked ineffectually at him, and Negan gave his ass two hard smacks.

“Wow, not making this easy on the old man, are ya, darlin’?” Negan chuckled and leaned over Daryl’s back enough so that he could lick his cheek.

“Got enough air, puss? You could convince a fella to be into some of that autoerotic asphyxiation, lying there like that, and all.” Negan grabbed the knife out of the table and began to run its tip along Daryl’s back.

“Hold still now, wouldn’t want to nick you in the process.” Negan pulled up a handful of Daryl’s shirt and started slicing the material away. Daryl shivered as the knife skimmed whisper-close to his skin, and exposed more and more of his cringing flesh to the freezing rain. By the time Negan had cut all of his clothing away, full body shudders were rolling through Daryl.

“Oh, sweet boy.” Negan leaned down, the leather zipper of his jacket cold against Daryl's back. “I’ll get you warmed up. If you’re good, we’ll fix this up, too.” Negan’s finger dug cruelly into Daryl’s wound. Daryl howled with pain, then collapsed weakly onto the table, panting for air.

A shockingly warm hand pressed between his legs as Negan stood again. Experienced fingers grabbed hold of Daryl’s uninterested cock and tugged it a few times.

“Now that’s no way to greet your new master, puss,” Negan chided.

Daryl choked and sputtered indignantly in the cold, “You sick fuck. Did you actually think I would like this?”

With an affectionate squeeze, Negan released Daryl’s cock. “Of course you will.” He purred matter of factly. “It’s just all a matter of conditioning.” Daryl heard the snap of a cap lid and an obscene squirt before Negan’s work-roughened fingers returned, covered in a thick layer of lube, to rub expertly over the head of Daryl’s cock.

“Now’s the time to be telling me a little something about yourself, puss.”

Daryl grunted out a jeering laugh. “Like hell.”

“Well, it’s up to you. But there’s always a price for disobedience.” Negan shook his head, a flash of teeth in the darkness, “All right, Truth or Dare! Did that Rick of yours ever pound this sweet hole? Were you his second in all ways, or only with the gun?”

Daryl bit back an undignified yelp as Negan’s other hand pushed its way between the tight cheeks of his ass.

“I’m just giving you the opportunity to make this easier for you. Did your boy plow you regular? You got a load in you right now? Or has it been a while?”

Daryl’s uninterested cock twitched traitorously at the mention of Rick’s name.

Negan’s dark laugh filled the night air.

“You’re a sick fuck, you know that, right?” Daryl grunted as Negan’s thumb circled his vulnerable entrance. When it suddenly pushed in, Daryl shuddered. He and Rick had never… hell, he’d thought about it a time or two, but didn’t think Rick swung that way. And apocalypse wasn’t exactly conducive to hookups. The few Daryl’d had, he’d been in the driver’s seat, unwilling to leave himself that vulnerable for a few chased moments of pleasure.

“Maybe I just found some company.”

Daryl didn’t respond. Negan was going to rape him, regardless. There was nothing he could do to stop him.

“Well?” Negan’s lube-slick thumb was pushing rhythmically in and out past the tight outer ring of Daryl’s asshole as he tested the muscle. “Hmm. Seems mighty tight down here. Is this your first rodeo, boy?” Negan murmured.

“Fuck you,” Daryl muttered under his breath, as his fingers grasped the table’s edge.

“What? What’s that, darlin’? You’re going to have to speak up some, so I can hear you.” Negan cooed sweetly as he shifted to probe one long finger deep inside Daryl. Negan searched around, rubbed carefully until Daryl let out a small yelp, and bucked under him. “Ahh. Yahtzee!” Negan howled in glee, continuing to finger Daryl and stroke his cock, sending sparks up and down his spine as he laughed in the rain.

“All right, all right. Stop it.” Daryl cried out in disgust and horror at the feelings Negan was forcing on him as his cock started to thicken. “You ain’t the first.”

“Just wanted to hear it from you firsthand.” The satisfaction in Negan’s voice made Daryl’s stomach clench, but not half so much as when Negan’s finger withdrew from his ass, and Daryl’s cock was unceremoniously released. He heard the pop of the man’s pants button and the slow click of Negan’s zipper pulled down. All desire left him.

Negan pulled his cock out and laid it, long and fat, between the lube-slick crease of Daryl’s ass. Another squelch of lube and Daryl flinched at the brush of fingers as Negan stroked himself. A rough hand pushed his ass cheeks back to expose the tight rosebud within. Probing briefly, Negan lined himself up with Daryl’s hole; then the man shoved in.

“Fuck!” Daryl grunted as Negan pushed past the first tough outer rings and started to feed inch after inch inside him in one long, unforgiving push. Daryl howled in pain.

“Shut up and take it, kid. You’re in for a treat.” Negan snorted and continued his relentless assault.

The man’s dick was thick and long, and Daryl thought it would never end. When it finally did, Daryl was sure he could feel him in his tonsils.

“You all right? You still with me, pussycat?’ Negan sniggered, and leaned down to nip at his ear as he rested for a moment. “Nice, tight pussy, just like I thought you’d be.”

Daryl shivered shockily. It was full dark now. Negan’s actions were illuminated only by the light of the living room beyond, where two or three of his men stood around a pool table to play. Daryl could see the covetous glances they sent Negan’s way as they swallowed their beer.

The heavy rain had turned to a slow, relentless drizzle. Daryl was freezing and dizzy from blood loss. Uncaring, Negan shifted both hands to get a better hold on Daryl’s hips. He pulled back almost to the tip, before he twisted his hips around teasingly, only to slam back in. That first thrust shoved all the air out of Daryl’s lungs, and he struggled to breathe past the tight rope around his neck, while the man started to pound back into him.

Negan set up a relentless rhythm. Each stroke in, each stroke out, shoving Daryl’s bound body back and forth on the table like a limp rag doll. Daryl grit his teeth as his chilled fingers clung to the edge of the table in a desperate attempt to regain some measure of control as he waited for his rape to be over.

As if he could read his thoughts, Negan slowed and changed the angle of his cock, so that it brushed up against Daryl’s prostate. Jolted by the move, Daryl moaned as, in spite of the cold and rain, a lick of desire sparked inside him.

“Yeah, now that’s more like it. Harder for you to despise me, kitty cat, if you enjoy it, too. Am I right?” Negan was almost gleeful now as he continued to nail Daryl’s prostate on every pass. Negan’s hand wormed its way between their legs, grabbed Daryl’s cock, and began to stroke him again. Unlike Negan’s rough treatment before, this time he was slow and easy, his thumb careful to swirl around the sensitive head of Daryl’s cock every few passes. Daryl groaned in disgust and bit at his own arm to keep himself silent and discourage his cock as it started to harden. For what seemed like an eternity, Negan kept up the slow, careful stroking. The cold rain now seemed to soothe his overheated skin, and Daryl knew he was losing. Fueled by the steady pressure against his prostate combined with the tender hand on his cock his pleasure built. Still, it wasn’t enough to tip him over the edge. Whining, Daryl panted, bucking back against Negan, anxious for something, anything, to bring this torment to an end.

Negan chuckled as Daryl squirmed.

“Beg me.” Negan whispered, his breath hot on Daryl’s ear, as he ran his fingers along Daryl’s bare back teasingly. “Beg me to make you come.”

Daryl licked his lips and growled as he tried to shake Negan off his back. “Fuck you.”

“No,” Negan’s voice was serene. “Fuck you.” Picking up the pace, Negan’s hands shifted again to adjust Daryl’s hips before resuming his pounding pace.

Daryl hissed. Negan was avoiding his prostate with eerie precision, and it was all too much. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, God Damn it, fuck me. Do it, you bastard, fuck me now.”

“Close enough.” Negan chuckled and moved so his cock again brushed against Daryl just right, so that his pleasure heightened on every pass.

“Nngh,” Daryl grunted. He was close, so damn close. The metronome-like slap of Negan’s leather pants against his thighs; Daryl’s balls, wet and exposed to the night air, as they slowly tightened; the pinch of his flesh against the table edge at Negan’s every thrust, and the full weight of Negan’s cock slotted up inside him as if it had found home – all worked to wind Daryl tighter and tighter. He clenched his teeth to keep back the needy cry as he reached for something he hadn’t had in a long, long time.

Negan’s cock twitched, and some instinct told Daryl if he hadn’t come by the time Negan did, he wouldn’t be allowed to come.

Desperate, he started thrusting back against Negan. His fingers dug deep into the table top. If only he could use his hands. So close, so close, one more thrust was all Daryl needed. His body convulsed; untouched, he started to pulse. He threw back his head, mouth open in a soundless scream as he came, staring sightlessly at the midnight sky. His cock jerked and spurted streams of hot come onto the damp, cold ground. Unthinking, his body squeezed down on Negan’s cock buried inside him, triggering the man’s release. Hot fluid splashed Daryl’s insides, and milked yet another orgasm from him and a satisfied groan from Negan.

When Daryl came back to himself, it was raining softly, and Negan was sprawled across him again as he whispered dirty words in his ear. “Yeah, that’s it, kitty cat. That’s just what daddy wanted,” Negan muttered and pawed sloppily at Daryl’s head.

“Get off me, bitch,” Daryl growled, uncaring of the danger, eager to shake off this pretense of tenderness from his rapist.

Negan swatted him playfully. “You don’t mean that. You loved it.” Negan ran his hands proprietarily down Daryl’s flank before he leaned in to kiss him tenderly on the lips. “Not bad, baby, not a bad ride at all,” Negan purred against his ear. “A few more nights like this, and we’ll get your mind right. Get you trained up for me good, kitty cat.”

Negan shoved himself up to standing and slid out with a wet squelch, Daryl’s hole left suddenly empty and gaping in the rain.

“There’s just one more thing before I go.” Negan hummed and patted at his coat pocket. There was the pop of a pen cap, and then Daryl felt a firm tip of something touch his back. The distinctive smell of the Sharpie carried on the wet air, and Daryl grit his teeth as he recognized the letters being marked onto his flesh.

‘MINE’.

“Gotta mark you up, pussycat. Make everyone know that you’re mine.” Negan smirked and moved so that Daryl could see his face as he tucked himself in and zipped up. “But then, hot damn, EVERYTHING is mine. And I can choose to share it any damn way I want.” A two-fingered whistle, and Negan was bellowing to the men inside, “Simon. Your turn. When you and the boys are done, be sure the doc takes a look at him.” Negan leaned down next to Daryl’s face as he wrapped his red scarf around Daryl’s neck. “And you will remember to be more appreciative next time.”

  
FIN

*Comments always appreciated, no matter when you read the story : )


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